


in my nice dream i could see your blouse

by bloodscout



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Coming Out, Fluff, Gen, Gender Dysphoria, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Viktor Nikiforov, Post-Canon, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-11-15 22:30:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11240607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodscout/pseuds/bloodscout
Summary: “I just feel wrong.” Viktor said after a while. His crying has abated a little. “I feel like my skin doesn’t fit properly. Everyone keeps telling me that I’m handsome and it makes me feel sick to my stomach.” He looked up at Yuuri, his eyes red and his eyelashes sticking together. Yuuri’s heart felt like it was about to break. He couldn’t bear to see Viktor like this.





	in my nice dream i could see your blouse

**Author's Note:**

> this is an incredibly self indulgent piece, but hopefully it is enjoyable. i do have a soft spot for nonbinary viktor. all experiences represented in the fic are my own and not meant to be indicative of every nonbinary person's experience.  
> title from 'surrender' by ball park music

The sun was out in St Petersburg, and he and Yuuri were out for a morning coffee date, when Viktor caught sight of his reflection in a shop window. He stopped abruptly, Yuuri’s hand slipping out of his, and peered at the mirrored image of himself. He cut a dashing figure in his form-fitting jeans and crisp collared shirt, but something felt wrong. He leant in a little, inspecting his face. His fringe hung over one eye, brushing the curve of his cheekbone, while the rest was cropped short. He tugged a little at his fringe, the dark polish on his nails contrasting with his light hair, and that made something in his chest start to ache.

 

“Vitya?” Yuuri asked, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Are you worrying that you’re balding again?”

 

Viktor shook his head, because _no, that’s not it_. He was definitely uncomfortable about his hair, but it wasn’t because of its thinness. It just felt ugly somehow. Wrong.

 

“What did you think of me when I cut my hair?” He asked, still looking at his reflection in the window. The shop staff were beginning to look at him a little oddly.

 

Yuuri thought for a moment. “I thought you looked very handsome when you cut it. You were very… masculine.”

 

Well _that_ made the ache in Viktor’s chest worse.

 

“I thought it suited you. A lot of fans didn’t, but I did.” Yuuri continued. “You looked more mature, I guess? And stronger, maybe because your programs were getting more difficult. I liked it.”

 

That wasn’t what he was hoping to hear at all. Viktor straightened up, and avoided looking at his reflection. He thought he felt tears pressing at his eyelids, and shook his head to clear the feeling. He took a deep breath, schooling his features into something presentable. Then, an idea popped into his head, and he didn’t have time to inspect it before he was speaking aloud. “What would you think if I grew it out again?”

 

If Yuuri was shocked, he didn’t let it show. “Well, I guess I would have to learn to braid.”

 

Viktor drew in another breath and forced himself to relax. He grabbed Yuuri’s hand again, trying to keep his mind in the present. There were thoughts swirling around his head, but he didn’t want to focus on them just now. “Come on, Yuuri. Let’s go.”

 

***

 

A few days after that, Yuuri walked into the bedroom after dinner, only to find Viktor sitting on the edge of the bed, head in his hands, tears falling down his cheeks. He looked so lost, sitting alone in the dark bedroom, curled in on himself like a scared child. Yuuri sat beside his fiancé and wrapped him in his arms.

 

“Vitenka, what’s wrong?” Yuuri asked, pulling Viktor closer.

 

Viktor hiccupped through a few sobs before he was able to grit out a frustrated “I don’t know!” He hated this foul mix of anger and sadness that was filling him. He cursed each sob as it broke its way out from his chest. Yuuri ran a soothing hand down Viktor’s back, drawing little circles with his palm like Viktor did to him when their roles were reversed.

 

“I just feel wrong.” Viktor said after a while. His crying has abated a little. “I feel like my skin doesn’t fit properly. Everyone keeps telling me that I’m _handsome_ and it makes me feel sick to my stomach.” He looked up at Yuuri, his eyes red and his eyelashes sticking together. Yuuri’s heart felt like it was about to break. He couldn’t bear to see Viktor like this.

 

Yuuri continued to rub circles into Viktor’s back. He ran the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip, thinking. “What about your body feels wrong? Anything specific?”

 

Viktor shook his head, more out of frustration than anything else. “I don’t know. Everything. My shoulders are too broad. My hair’s too short.”

 

Yuuri hummed. “Do you think…” He paused, choosing his words. “Do you think it might be dysphoria?”

 

Viktor blinked in confusion, but didn’t say anything.

 

“Phichit had this partner in college – his boygirlfriend, he called them – and sometimes they had days like this. Where they felt like their body was wrong. That might be what’s happening.” Yuuri explained.

 

Viktor caught his lip between his teeth, worried at it while he thought. “Maybe.”

 

Yuuri squeezed Viktor to his chest again. “If you like, we can call Phichit and talk about it? He should be home from practice by now.”

 

Viktor let out a long breath, and it came out only a little bit shaky. “Yeah, okay.”

 

Yuuri set up the computer, and Viktor got comfortable on the bed. His eyes were probably still red, and his cheeks were probably tear stained, but he had never been one to hold back his emotions for someone else’s comfort. Yuuri balanced the computer on his knees, and made sure that they were both visible when he called Phichit. The Thai man was grinning when he picked up the call, his messy room visible behind him through the phone’s camera.

 

“Hey, Yuuri! Hey, Viktor!” He greeted. “What’s the occasion?”

 

Yuuri looped an arm around Viktor’s shoulders. “We had some questions for you, actually. About Riley?”

 

Phichit nodded, and the image shifted as he propped the arm holding the phone up against something. “Oh yeah, what about them?”

 

Yuuri looked to Viktor, and squeezed his shoulder encouragingly. “How did they feel, when they had dysphoria?” Viktor asked, voice unusually quiet.

 

Phichit looked off to the side as he thought. “Riley said that it felt like everyone was misunderstanding them, like no one saw them properly.” Phichit began. “It was frustrating, that people couldn’t immediately see that they weren’t a man or a woman. And their body felt constricting, limiting.” Phichit looked back at Viktor and Yuuri, and smiled brightly. “Did that help?”

 

Viktor nodded. That sounded a lot about how he was feeling, actually.

 

“Did anything help?” Yuuri inquired. “Is there anything you could do to make them feel better?” That question made warmth bloom in Viktor’s chest, knowing that no matter what, Yuuri was there for him.

 

Phichit took a moment to consider again. “Time helped, usually. I used to paint their nails for them, and sometimes we would go shopping for clothes if we had the money. And I’d make sure that they could hear me use their pronouns and stuff too.”

 

Viktor already painted his nails, but clothes shopping sounded like an idea. He liked shopping for masculine clothes already, so he didn’t see why he wouldn’t like shopping for dresses just as much. Maybe he might even like it more. “Thanks, Phichit. I don’t think we have any more questions.” He said, managing a smile.

 

“No problems! Hey, Viktor, do you want me to use a different name or different pronouns for you?” He asked, cheery as always. They hadn’t told Phichit who they were talking about, but Phichit was nothing if not incredibly perceptive.

 

Viktor thought about his name, thought about how he felt when Yuuri said _I love you, Vitenka_ and _Viktor, I don’t think I can do that jump again_ and _Vitya, we need more milk_. That felt nice, still. “I don’t think I’ll change my name.” He decided. Then, he thought about Phichit calling him “they”, and it didn’t feel wrong, but it felt different, rather than outright good. “I’ll let you know about the pronouns. Thanks for asking, though.”

 

“Okay! Well, I have to go feed the hamsters, but we’ll talk soon!”

 

“Bye, Phichit!” Yuuri smiled at his friend as he finished the call, and put his laptop to the side before hugging Viktor properly.

 

Viktor felt soothed by Yuuri’s weight on top of him, a reminder that he loved and was loved. Yuuri pressed a kiss to the side of his head. “Love you.” He whispered.

 

Viktor tucked his chin around Yuuri’s shoulder, breathing in the scent that was unmistakably Yuuri. “Love you too, _lyubov_.”

 

***

 

The next day, Yuuri invited Yurio around for lunch. Yurio made his usual objections about being around the gross couple, but he loved Yuuri’s cooking, so it didn’t take long before he gave in. After they had eaten their fill of ramen, they moved to the couch to talk.

 

“Viktor and I were talking last night –” Yuuri began.

 

“Never a good sign.” Yurio grumbled.

 

Yuuri continued like he hadn’t been interrupted. “And Viktor wanted to try something out.”

 

Yurio squeaked. “Gross, I don’t want to hear about your weird sex things!” He protested.

 

Viktor laughed at that, Yurio’s outburts a frequent source of amusement to him. He coaxed Makkachin into his lap.

 

“I want to try using they pronouns.” Viktor said. “And I thought you and Yuuri could practice them so I could see how they feel.”

 

Yurio rolled his eyes. “Don’t expect me to say anything nice.”

 

Viktor held a hand to his chest in mock affront. “I would never!” He declared around a gasp.

 

“Vitya and I were going to go shopping for new clothes for them.” Yuuri offered.

 

Viktor let the words wash over him, and the new pronouns felt comfortable already. It wasn’t an overwhelming feeling, just like something had clicked inside of him. They alleviated some of the tightness that had taken up residence in his chest. He scratched at Makkachin’s head absently, listening to the conversation.

 

Yurio scoffed. “Don’t they have enough clothes already? When you two moved in here they insisted on, like, two walk-in closets.”

 

It sounded right from Yurio’s mouth too, proof that Viktor wasn’t just reacting to Yuuri’s voice in particular.

 

“Well, they don’t own any dresses to my knowledge, so that’s what we’re going to go shopping for.”

 

“Whatever.” Yurio snarked. “As long as they don’t buy anything stupid. I don’t want to see a 29-year-old Viktor in some Eros costume bullshit, ok?”

 

Viktor chuckled. This felt right.

 

***

 

On their next off day, Yuuri and Viktor do go shopping. Yuuri had firmly insisted upon a modest spending limit, knowing how Viktor could sometimes go overboard with spending when left to their own devices. The spending limit, however, didn’t stop Viktor from trying on every dress in a 10 kilometer radius. Their usual excitement about shopping was increased tenfold by the prospect of Yuuri commenting on their outfits with words like _pretty_ and _beautiful_ , rather than _handsome_ or _dashing_.

 

“This article says to go for V necks and halter tops, Vitya.” Yuuri suggested, looking up from his phone, which was open to a Buzzfeed article. “It might make you feel better about your shoulders.”

 

Viktor searched through the rack for a dress that fit that description, before coming up with an elegant gold dress. The top was simple, just a light, shimmery fabric, but the bottom half was a bright, shining gold tulle. They held it up against their body, tugging out the bottom so it accentuated their waist.

 

“How does it look?” Viktor asked, preening under the attention Yuuri was giving them.

 

“Beautiful, love.” Yuuri praised, running a hand down Viktor’s chest. “You look so lovely in gold.”

 

Viktor grinned, and added the dress to their pile, which held two sequined A-line skirts, a pink floral number, and a loose silk blouse in a colour that matched Yuuri’s new tie.

 

By the end of the day, they return home with bags full of dresses, skirts, and blouses, and Viktor feels lighter than they have felt in days.

 

***

 

Viktor slipped into the gold dress and a pair of sequined ballet flats. They caught a glimpse of themself in the mirror, and felt a little thrill at seeing their reflection match the image they held in their head.

 

“Yuuri!” They called. “Can you come zip up my dress?” Their arms were long enough to reach and pull the zip themself, but they liked the gentle touch the Yuuri gave to the task, the quiet intimacy of the gesture.

 

Yuuri entered the walk-in wardrobe, zipped up the dress, and slung his arms around Viktor’s waist. He kissed Viktor lightly on the cheek, holding them against his chest.

 

“You’re a vision.” Yuuri breathed, awed.

 

Viktor grinned at the compliment, and took Yuuri’s hands in their own, still looking at the image of the two of them in the mirror. “We look so hot together, Yuuri.” They teased.

 

Yuuri nodded in agreement, and placed another kiss on the opposite cheek. “You ready?” He asked.

 

Viktor drew in a breath. Even though they weren’t one to get nervous, they didn’t want to mess this up. “Yeah.” They said, squeezing Yuuri’s hands. “Let’s go, love.”

 

When they emerged from the cab, it was outside the _Russian Life_ offices. Yuuri held their hand tightly as they spoke to reception, and were lead up to meet their interviewer.

 

Their interviewer was a short, round woman, who had a kind smile. She reminded Viktor of Hiroko, a little, which was somewhat calming. She shook their hand, and her grip was firm, confident.

 

“Hello, Mr. Nikiforov. It’s a pleasure to speak with you today.” She greeted, smiling warmly.

 

“Oh, it’s Mx. Nikiforov, actually.” They corrected. The took their seat opposite the woman, and Yuuri sat opposite them, his presence comforting. “I should let you know, I’d like you to use they pronouns in this interview.”

 

The interviwer nodded. “That’s not a problem.” She told them. “Now, what do you have in store for this season, Mx. Nikiforov?”

 

Viktor smoothed their hands down their dress, and started to explain what their theme was for this upcoming season. It had taken a while to decide, but Yuuri had agreed that it was very fitting.

 

“Well, my theme for this season is ‘Understanding’.”

**Author's Note:**

> check out that sick first scene/last scene mirroring. thanks for reading!


End file.
